


Questionable Choices

by johnathot-seed (johns_gate)



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Gen, it's implied john x f!deputy!, mentions of faith's death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 04:26:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18909529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johns_gate/pseuds/johnathot-seed
Summary: Someone's about to become a traitor, and it's certainly not Whitehorse. aka. Miriam reaches her breaking point and hands in her badge.





	Questionable Choices

The sound of the footsteps approaching the door to his office were to be expected; the all too familiar sounds of heavy footsteps, the hesitation before a cautious knock. Whitehorse smiled to himself. Things might have gone south ever since the failed arrest, but he was glad to see that some things had remained constant.

He wasn't at all surprised when Miriam stepped through the threshold before he'd even had a chance to call out; she'd never been one for patience, even during their time in Missoula. 

Whitehorse smiled at her, a genuine smile - that was in itself a rarity after these last few months - as he greeted her.

“Deputy”

He watched the corners of her mouth quirk into the hint of a smile; before it fell, almost as quickly as it had appeared. She'd never been fond of the affectionately given nickname of ‘Rook’; both Hudson and Pratt had spent weeks devising a moniker to which to address their latest team member. Unaware of her military past, most jabs at her height had been like waters off a duck's back to Miriam, much to their disappointment. ‘Rookie’ though? She had bristled at that, and Whitehorse still remembered the scowl she had worn for the rest of that day. It was quite a comedown from Corporal, even he had to admit.

The sound of his Junior Deputy’s voice broke his thoughts, bringing him firmly back to the present. Hope County, Montana. 

“Sheriff.” Her voice was quiet, and he leant back in his chair to fully look at her.

She was a far cry from the once defiant woman who had once argued with Burke the night of the arrest; protesting her right to wear her camouflage pants and army boots rather than her standard uniform; her right to carry a non-regulation firearm as an intimidation tactic - “it's hardly an LMG, Marshall. It's a fucking D50”- how she had winked at him as she tucked the forbidden weapon into the waistband of her pants regardless.

Now she stood before him, her left hand idly playing with the gun holster wrapped around her left thigh; the sickly pallor to her skin doing nothing but emphasise the dark circles and the dullness of what had once been bright and eager eyes. Before she had looked strong; her small frame only emphasised by the stockiness caused by her muscular build. There was nothing of that in the frail woman standing before him, her uniform somehow hanging off her even more than usual.

The constant fighting with the Project at Eden's Gate was beginning to wear her down, but she had still insisted on throwing everything she had against them. Eyebrows had been raised when he had suggested placing Junior Deputy Ford on the arrest team, the pleased look on Nancy's face the only positive reaction to his suggestion. She had been doubted, but she had effectively proved everyone wrong with the fierceness with which she fought. Even Tracey had expressed her approval of how quickly Miriam had thrown herself at Faith Seed whilst still recovering from her multiple trips in the Bliss.

Not him though. He had never doubted Miriam.

Now, the Siren lay dead, and the smouldering remains of her bunker were visible still from the prison almost 24 hours later. They had a moment to breathe; to celebrate their victory, and to mourn their losses.

“I was expecting you, Deputy”

“Sir?”

“Ah, come now, Miriam. This isn't the military; we don't have to stand on formalities. You know you can call me Earl”

She nodded. “Yes, s - I mean, Earl”

Whitehorse gestured for her to take a seat, frowning as the bandages wrapped around her elbows were exposed as the sleeves of her shirt raised up slightly; the red lines beginning sneaking out from under the bandages a glaring sign of just how far she had fallen since their arrival. He had been meaning to check up on her since her frantic arrival at the prison almost two weeks ago, but his pointed looks had been met with a sharp “I'm fine.” And so he had pretended to not notice the bottle of liquor gripped tight in her hands; how she was refusing to allow herself to have a moment to breathe. He had a sneaking suspicion Miriam was trying to avoid him. 

“If I can breathe, I can fight” had been her philosophy as she took a rare moment to spend the night under the roof of the prison; and as Whitehorse caught her eye from across the room, she had left before he had a moment to confront her.

Her hands now lay in her lap, and he noticed the all too familiar sign of her leg bouncing in her agitation.

“I'm sorry about Burke, Rook.” 

She winced at the reminder of the previous day's events. He leaned forward, resting his arms upon the desk. “You couldn't have saved him, Miriam. Virgil, either. You did everything you physically could - you saved a lot of people yesterday. Taking down Faith Seed? That was no easy feat.” 

She remained silent, her leg bouncing with even more vigour than before.

“I'm damned proud of you, Miriam.”

The woman's eyes snapped up at him, horror clouding her features. Her voice was barely inaudible as she spoke.

“I killed a _kid_ , Sheriff. I killed a young woman in cold blood… and people are celebrating it.”

“Self-defence, Miriam. She would have killed you - _and me_ \- had you not. You did what you had to do to protect the people here.” He sighed. “I know you've seen your fair share of death, but this couldn't be avoided: Faith forced our hands -”

“With all due respect sir, you weren't the one who pulled the trigger.” She looked down at her hands as if expecting to still see the blood smeared across them. “I did, Earl. She was a young woman, and I could have subdued her, but I didn't. I.. I tried to blame it on that fucking Bliss, but... it's not. It's me.” 

She took a deep breath, voice hitching as she whispered. “John is right. I _am_ Wrath.”

Whitehorse remained silent. He had known Miriam for nigh on two years, and despite picking her off her feet and helping her battle her demons; he had never known her to be quite so vulnerable before.

“What exactly happened in the Valley? You’ve been quiet for almost 8 months: I had to use what little contacts I had in the Resistance just to make sure you were still breathing. Damn it, Miriam! What the fuck did John Seed do to you?!”

Earl watched in confusion as a sudden dangerous look clouded over Miriam’s features, if only for a second, at the mention of the youngest Seed.

“Nothing.”

“Miriam -”

“IT’S FINE.” Her voice shook as she raised her voice; her face immediately falling as she spoke. “I'm sorry I… I didn't come here for this.”

She met his gaze and held it, before hitting him with the words he had perhaps been expecting ever since she had sat beside him and watched Faith’s bunker go up in flames; the flames only exaggerating the haunted look on her face.

“Sir, I can't do this anymore. This.. this fighting, the deaths. Something's got to give.. and I don't want it to be me. I can’t deal with all this anymore! It’s the exactly the same fucking thing as Iraq, except I’m the one in command! Earl, every fucking day I sent people out in the Valley and hope that I didn’t just send them to their graves - you yourself know how fucking awful that is! I’ve had enough of people dying for me… got sick of that real quick back in the military. I wasn’t expecting it to follow me home.”

Earl watched her outburst; how her voice cracked and hitched as she poured out what seemed to be almost eight months of strife - the hands she used to emphasise her speech beginning to shake. She saw him staring at her hands, quickly dropping them to rest on her lap, a slight look of shame on her face. That was all he needed to determine it wasn't caused _just_ by her vulnerability.

“I don’t want to live in secret anymore; I’m sick of this fucking guilt. I just… I want to be human. To not be a weapon anymore. I don’t want to be Wrath... I don’t want to be the fucking ‘Deputy’ like I’m some kind of hero. If they knew what I've been doing wi -well, I mean, I’m the furthest thing from it!”

She took a deep breath to compose herself.

“I… just want to go back to being Miri again.”

She shot up suddenly, out of her chair, walking towards the barred window that looked out into what was once the prison yard. Her back to him; Whitehorse watched as she ran a hand over her neglected sidecut - yet another nervous habit of hers he was all too familiar with. Her hand fell, and crossing her arms, she shifted her weight from her right foot to her left.

“I quit.”

He had half been expecting it, but the words still hit him like a punch to the gut. “You’re… what?”

She spun around, a sad smile playing across her lips. “I quit!” She laughed as though suddenly free, raising her hands slightly to the side. “I’m done. Consider this my resignation.” She removed the badge pinned on her left breast, eyeing it with an unreadable expression. Crossing the room, she placed the badge on the desk along with her service firearm, pushing them both towards Whitehorse.

Her eyebrows raised in expectation for his reply, simply watching as he leaned forward to pick the discarded badge up to examine it.

“Deputy, there are people who are relying on-”

“Sir, I can’t. I’ve gave my all. I’ve done this since I was fucking eighteen years old, Earl. I want to fight on my terms now. I… I have a shot of being happy now. I’m taking it. Faith’s dead - the Henbane is liberated. You… you don’t need me anymore. You can send fighters up to the Whitetails and…..if you need to, to the Valley.” Her smile became wistful. “You’ve got some good fighters here sir. They’ve got that fire in them. Hell, I know I’d be honoured to fight them - I mean, fight with them.”

She eyed him, suddenly wary at his sudden silence. “Sir, say something. Please..”

He gave a sigh, rising out of his seat. “I can’t say I’m not disappointed, Miriam. This will be a huge blow to morale - especially to those in the Valley. You might not know it, but they speak highly of you. They’re all expecting you to be the one to take John Seed down. You’ve done a great job of organising the Resistance there Rook.” 

He removed his glasses, cleaning them as he collected his thoughts. Miriam watched as the sound of silence filled the room, holding her breath as she hardly dared to make a noise - just waiting for Whitehorse to continue.

She owed it to him to take the reprimand she was about to get.

“But…. you’re like a daughter to me, Miriam. You know this. And I can’t in good conscience send you after these goddamned Peggies.. not in your condition.” A hand raised silenced her protest, and he smiled up at here. “Besides, I’ve heard the rumours.”

She faltered. “R-rumours, sir?”

“I hear you’ve been seeing someone, Rook!” 

Whitehorse laughed at how suddenly her face blanched. “Don’t worry - you're not in any trouble. This isn’t the military, remember. Besides, it’s not like you’re fraternising with the enemy, is it?”

Miriam swallowed, her hand returning to the thigh holster strapped to her thigh, fiddling with the knife secured there. “No, sir. I’m..not.” 

“You should have a word with your friend... Boshaw, is it? He’s been rather forthcoming - he doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut, does he?” At Miriam’s head shake, Whitehorse carried on. “You said you have a shot of happiness? Take it, Miriam. You two get the hell out of here - safely, mind - and bring the goddamned National Guard back with you. We can end this quickly with more backup from outside: put the God-damned Seed family behind bars where they belong.” 

With some confusion he watched as Miriam avoided his gaze, looking out the barred window. 

“Yes, sir. I… I can bring help back.” 

She coughed, breaking the awkward silence that was beginning to settle between them. “I uh.. I should take my leave, sir.” She walked towards him, an arm outstretched for a final handshake, only to be pulled into a tight embrace.

“I told you, Miriam. To hell with formalities.” 

She clung to him, her hands gripping his shirt as though she knew it was the last time she would ever see him again; her expression pained as she pulled away from him. Whitehorse didn’t ask what was wrong, his own worry about the petite woman in front of him clearly shown on his own face.

“Get out of here, Deputy. That’s an order - get to safety, and bring back some damned help. Lord knows we’re fighting a losing battle against the Peggies.”

The loud crackle of Whitehorse’s radio interrupted whatever Miriam was beginning to say.

_“Whitehorse.. Whitehorse, you there? Have you heard from the Deputy?? I’ve been trying to contact her all damned day; kid’s got her radio turned off.”_

Miriam tore her own radio from her side, turning it on and responding to Dutch. “I’m here, Dutch. I had.. to take a breather -”

_“I don’t have time to tell you how much of a stupid idea that was - Kid, whatever you did in the Valley before you did your little disappearing act seriously pissed little ol’ Johnny off. The Resistance is struggling to hit back, and I'm hearing rumours there's a group being held hostage at the church in Fall's End. You gotta get over there and get them outta there, Kid.”_

An almost indomitable look washed over Miriam as she stood listening to Dutch. Her entire stance changed, becoming powerful as she stood up straight - looking every inch the soldier Whitehorse knew her to be. Looking at her, it was easy to see why the Resistance had rallied around her.

“I'm on it, Dutch.” She clicked her radio off, securing it back to her belt. “No rest for the wicked, it seems”

“Miriam, you don't have to -”

“I was heading into the Valley anyway, Earl. It's just a hostage situation: it's not like John Seed is personally going to be there, is it.” Her smile was rueful. “Besides… it’s the least I can do. I should be the one to tell them.”

Whitehorse nodded. “If you’re sure -”

“I am.”

She walked towards the door, stopping at the threshold for a moment. Miriam rested her hand on the frame, her fingers tapping, before turning around to glance at Whitehorse over her shoulder.

“Earl.. for what it’s worth… I’m sorry. Whatever happens - well, just know that it’s been an honour working with you, Sheriff.”

With a sudden quickness, Miriam left the room, leaving the unspoken question with Earl.

_What do you mean?_

His question was answered barely a day later when the news that the Junior Deputy was now a proud member of The Project at Eden’s Gate - and John’s partner, no less - hit the Henbane.


End file.
